Taking the Time
by planet p
Summary: AU; Emily has some news for Jarod which she thinks mightn't go down so well. Emily/Lyle
1. Chapter 1

**Taking the Time** by planet p

**Disclaimer** I don't own _the Pretender _or any of its characters.

* * *

_2010_

At the sound of someone entering the room, Jarod looked up from the documents he was reading through, hesitating as to whether he should shuffle them all together and put them away or not; in the end, he decided to leave them as they were; he didn't want to offend his sister by acting nervous or as though he couldn't trust her.

Emily smiled. "How are you? Mom told me you just got in."

Jarod nodded, suddenly feeling very tired. "I'm alive..."

"Can I make you a coffee?"

"Yeah, that would be nice. And.. how are you?"

"Alive," she replied, smiling a bit more. She walked around the table and stopped behind one of the chairs, and put a hand out to touch the edge of the table. "I... I have something to tell you. Mom, Harmony, and... I didn't think it would be a good idea saying so over the phone or... or in an email, in case, well, you know... someone was... monitoring that sort of thing."

Jarod's smile became a frown.

"Well, I'll just say it... then." She took her hand away from the table, letting it fall awkwardly to her side. "I'm pregnant."

Jarod's frown deepened and he watched Emily put a hand up to her face then turn away.

"Sleepy," she said, perhaps to herself, and grabbed the kettle from the kitchen sideboard. "You... Are you... How are you? Are you tired?"

"Somewhat," Jarod replied. "Emily...?"

She turned back around, to face him. "I know... You don't... You're wondering who the father is."

"Yes."

"Would I be terribly bad if I said I wanted to keep it a secret?" she asked.

"Are you going to keep it?"

Emily took a step back. "What do you think? I don't... I don't believe in that! In... I don't like... Yes! Yes, Jarod, I am keeping the baby! I wouldn't even think about abortion, ever, I happen to find it sickening!" She placed the kettle down on the table and took a few deep breaths. "I'm sorry. I understand why you would ask, but I couldn't... I couldn't do that!"

"I didn't mean to upset you," Jarod said, on a quieter note.

"I know, I know you didn't, Jarod. I understand."

"You don't..." he nodded at her, "you don't look very..."

She looked up at him, suddenly, and smiled a bit. "He's not very far along. Just a few months."

"He?"

"Hubertus," Emily replied, smiling some more.

Jarod didn't ask about the choice of name, but said, "How do you know it's a he?"

"I want him to be," Emily said with a smile.

_Because you think, that way, that he might be Kyle_, Jarod wanted to say. _You think that Kyle might have come back to us._ He didn't say this, though, he didn't want to upset Emily any more than was necessary. "A few months?" he said, instead.

"Two and a half, roughly," Emily agreed.

"Are you excited?"

She nodded silently, smiling more.

"Do you think..." he paused, trying to think of the right wording. "Are you... hoping that the father will want to be a part of it's life, and that... you can be a family like... like normal families? Does he know...? Have you told him anything about your life, and how you... how it's not how he might think it is? Does he know about the baby?" He was going on, he wished Emily would say something to make him stop.

"He knows," she replied, finally.

"About... about the baby or... or our problems?"

"In general... I... About Hubertus, and our problems."

"Do you love him?"

"I..."

Jarod fixed her with a serious stare. Things like that were important, he'd come to notice.

"Yes..."

"Does he love you?"

"Yes." She laughed quietly.

"Have you talked about whether he's willing to risk involving himself in our problems so that you can be together, or whether he thinks it might be best if the child stayed with him after it's born? Have you talked about any of this, Em?"

"Jarod?"

"Yes, Emily?"

She smiled and bit her lip, looking at the floor for a moment. "I hate... I really hate this part!"

"What part is that, Emily?" he asked.

"If there's stuff I've held back on letting you know, it's not the same as lying, is it? You won't despise me, will you?"

"Despise you? No, Emily, I don't think I could ever despise you," Jarod told her honestly. He frowned. "Is this something you've told mom or Harm about, but you just haven't got around to telling Dad or Ethan or Mo or me, yet."

Emily shook her head slightly. "I haven't told anyone." She pulled the chair out but didn't sit down. "Jarod...?"

"Yes, Emily?"

"I'm scared," she told him.

"There's nothing to be scared of, Em. I love you; nothing's going to change that, not ever."

"I love you, too," she said to the table, instead of him. She couldn't make herself look at him, he noticed.

"What do you need to tell me?" he prompted, hoping that by being direct he would be helping her rather than hurting her.

She shook her head. "Oh, gosh, you're going to be so hurt! Why am I always hurting the people that I care about?"

Jarod tried to catch her eye, wondering if he should get up and go to her. "Emily?"

She looked at him suddenly. "I'm sorry; I wish circumstances could have been different. If-" She dropped her gaze from his, trying to stop herself from getting all tearful. "Just say it! Say it and get it over with! Give him time to think. Do that, at least."

She sat down on the chair suddenly, and looked at him. "Hubertus's... His father is Lyle. As much as I care for him, and, arguably, he may say he cares for me... I do... I do think that he means what he says, but that's beside the point. He's not... he's not going to leave her. He has to stay with her."

Jarod sighed. "I think you're right," he replied. "I'm going to need some time to think. I don't... I don't hate you, Emily. I don't hate you. Is there another woman involved here? You said he wasn't prepared to leave her."

"Miss... Miss- Miss Parker. I mean, his sister. And... Reagan; of course, there's Reagan."

"The child that Brigitte had?"

Emily nodded and Jarod noticed, when she did so, that she was shaking.

"Emily, I'm not mad at you," he told her.

"You would be. You would be, if you knew," she said. "If you knew all of it."

He shook his head. "No. I wouldn't be. I... I wouldn't want to be. I don't want to be angry at you, Emily. In actual fact, I don't want to be angry at anyone, but there are some people with whom it is... unavoidable."

She smiled. "I know who you're thinking of."

"I believe that you do," was all he said.

She stood up suddenly, and walked around the table and leant down to give him a little hug, then returned to collect the kettle and fill it up so that she could put the water on for the coffees; time was dragging on.

Jarod didn't say anything, but he was glad she'd come over and given him a hug. It had made him feel better. He was going to take her advice and give himself some time before bringing it up again. There were a lot of reasons for him to be angry at Lyle, but none of them were any reason to be angry at his little sister, too.


	2. Chapter 2

**So, yeah, pretty lame.**

* * *

The young woman sighed, glancing down at her coffee with disinterest. She was off work for a while, between jobs, and she'd agreed to meet a friend of a friend for coffee and a chat. Currently, her friend's friend was sitting across the table from her, not really feeling much more enthused about the coffee than she was at that moment; he wasn't big on caffeine.

"_Wat is die mees kommerwekkende jy op die oomblik?_" he asked her now, and she looked up with a frown. She hadn't understood what he'd said.

"_Wat is het meest zorgwekkend u op dit moment?_ What are you worrying about; what's at the top of the list, right now? What's worrying you most?"

"Lyle. I write to him, and he doesn't write back. Of course I worry, he's my... he's my little brother. My _kleine broertje_. I wish he'd... I just wish he'd write back. It's not so much to ask for, is it? _Je veux qu'il soit sécuritaire._"

Lyle patted her hand. "I know, darlin'."

"_Qu'en est-maman?_ How is she? And Hubertus?"

"As far as I know, fine."

"You haven't talked to her lately?" the young woman asked.

"Not recently," Lyle replied.

"_Pourquoi?_"

He shook his head. "I don't know." He sighed. "What about you? How are things for you, at the moment?"

"You can see," she answered. "I'm sitting here, talking to you. _Je suis bien._ I'm alive; things are fine for me."

"And what about... what about jobs?"

"_Comme ci comme ça._ You know how it is. I manage."

"Yeah?"

"_Oui, papa._ Are you going to ring her?"

"What if she's busy?"

"_Dieu, vous vous comportez comme ta sœur!_"

He frowned, and the young woman laughed.

"Are you going to tell me off? _Je ne devrais pas parler mal de ma tante?_"

"What about you?" he replied, finally. "Debbie tells me you've met someone."

She laughed. "Oh, god, that is _classic_! Make it about someone else, why don't you! Sure! Deny it all!" She burst out laughing.

"I'm not denying anything, darlin'."

"Tell that to someone who _doesn't_ happen to know you're a compulsive liar – very well!"

"What am I denying?" he asked, refraining from a sigh. "You tell me."

"Act your age for once, dad!" she snapped, and stood up quickly. "And thank you for asking – Evan and I are getting along just strappingly!" She laughed and shook her head, waving a hand at him dismissively. "_Au revoir! __Bon voyage!_"

"You're not going to finish your drink?"

"_Non!_"

He sighed, but didn't bother to reply back; she was already at the door.


	3. Chapter 3

Jarod sat down on the couch in front of the television, beside his mother.

"How are you feeling?" she asked.

"I'm feeling alright," he replied.

"That's good to know."

He nodded slightly. "Mom?"

"Yes, Jarod?"

"Has Emily talked to you about... about how she is? Has she said anything about the baby, or... or how that happened?"

"No. Why do you ask?" She smiled. "Yes, yes, I wonder, too. Naturally. But that's rather personal, isn't it?"

"Do you think so? When we live the way we do? Always... having to run? Always having to be afraid? Never having any guarantee of what tomorrow might bring?"

Margaret frowned. "I don't know..." she sighed heavily. "I like to think that that hasn't changed who we are, that it hasn't changed the... the really important things."

"Like sharing things, like being honest about things? Like caring for one another?" Jarod questioned.

Margaret frowned again, worried by Jarod's suddenly changed tone, the accusation in his voice suddenly. "Jarod, you can't expect everybody to tell you everything. That just isn't how it works – ever. Some things are private, do you understand?"

Jarod looked away from her, leaving her wondering if he was angry at her, or if he'd even bother to reply or just get up and walk away.

"Jarod?"

"I know," he said blankly.

"Don't do that. Don't shut down on me, sweetheart. Tell me what's on your mind. I don't bite."

Jarod turned to her swiftly, his eyes dark, that accusation from his voice now in his eyes. "Do you know who the baby's father is?"

"No, Jarod, I don't. Emily has felt ready to share that, yet."

"And you have no suspicions!"

"Of course I have my little... suspicions, if you will. Of course I do, Jarod."

"And there's nothing wrong with that! Nothing at all! It's all perfectly above board, ma'am!"

She made a face. "Jarod. Perhaps our suspicions are not the same, hmm? Are you going to tell me about these suspicions that are clearly troubling you so much, or are you just going to sit there with that dark look on your face, waiting for your mother to develop superpowers and suddenly be able to read your mind?"

He smiled, but not, she guessed, at her little try for a note of humour. "She told me _who_ it is!"

"She told you. Alright."

"Alright!" he laughed, but not at all out of amusement.

"What are you so bitter about?" Margaret asked him calmly.

He laughed, his eyes suddenly brighter, suddenly challenging her. Mocking her, she thought.

She resisted the urge to suggest he ring Sydney – he'd only think she was throwing his friendship with his former mentor in his face with disdain and scorn; as much as she loved him, when he was in a mood like he was now, she wasn't sure he'd ever been handled in such a way as to know how to manage his upset, or to know when a person was trying to help or not; he'd only assume she was having a go at both Sydney and he, she thought. She hated to undersell her own child, but he was a child she hardly knew anymore. How could she know him, she'd never been given that chance. And now, he was all grown up. That was, at least, the façade he always tried presented to her, the façade he wanted – more than anything – that she believe; as though he thought she would worry less, would feel guilty less, would feel comforted by this fact.

Or perhaps it was as much for his own sake as her own? Perhaps he only let Sydney see that side of him, someone who'd been there, someone who'd been a part of his life when he'd needed him!

She didn't feel it right to hold it all against Sydney, but she also didn't think that Sydney had been there as much as Jarod thought that he had when he'd been there for him – perhaps he might have been more open himself – or perhaps that just hadn't been applicable, given the circumstances. Still, she wished someone – just someone, anyone – had been. She wished Miss Parker weren't so... so in with the Centre. Once, in the past, she'd been there for Jarod and he'd been there for her. Why couldn't it be like that again? Why couldn't they be friends again? As much as the concept might have seemed far-fetched, it was one that she believed in. True friendship could withstand a heck of a lot.

She snapped back to the present, realising that it must only have been a couple of heartbeats that she'd been lost to her thoughts because that look was still on Jarod's face, that hurt, scarily unpredictable look.

Suddenly, the amusement died on Jarod's face; nothing was funny anymore, darkly, or not, nothing was a joke; it was very serious, deadly serious, and very, very personal. "It's Lyle!"

What did she say now? How did she reply to that? Did she tell him that, in fact, they're suspicions aligned perfectly, did she tell him that there was more to the story and that she just happened to know more than she was saying, did she impugn herself in what her son saw as his sister's betrayal of their family by what she'd kept from them – from him – did she worsen things for her daughter, did she tell him that, once he had calmed down, he might like to try talking to Em about it more, or did she feign surprise, did she lie to someone she loved more than anything else?

She suppressed a sigh. Perhaps Jarod was right, in his anger, in his attitude. Perhaps she'd done wrong by not disclosing what she'd known long before they'd had the chance to meet again after so many years. "That was my suspicion, also," she said.

Jarod nodded. "But you never said anything? To Emily? To dad? To _me_?"

"What would I have said, Jarod? Don't do this to me, don't make me choose between you! Don't ever do that! I love you both, so much! But don't believe you're the only one who's been hurt, don't believe that I haven't made my fair share of mistakes! I have! I have, Jarod, and I wish to God that I could take them all back, but that's just not a possibility, nor will it ever be! I hurt that girl – when I was the last person who should have! You can't even... you don't know what I did to her, Jarod!" She took a deep breath that she hoped would help calm her down. "I sent him away. I sent her _baby_ away, Jarod, before she'd even had the chance to hold him, before she'd even had any decent chance to lay eyes on him! I made that choice! It wasn't my choice to make, but I made it anyway! Because I loved her, and I loved you and your brother, because I loved all of you! I thought it was the right thing to do, I thought I was _protecting_ my grandson!" She shook her head. "Do you know who I was really protecting? Do you know the person I was really protecting? I was protecting myself; I was really only protecting myself, Jarod! And I... I am _so angry_ at myself for that now!"

She didn't expect sympathy out of Jarod, but his next words were... not what she had been expecting. "Emily has had a child before?"

Forcing herself to remain as calm as possible, not to start crying, she replied, "More than once."

"And you think that they're Lyle's children?"

"She named him Lyle. The little boy. That's what she wanted to name him. I didn't... I didn't know anyone by that name then, but later on..."

"Later on, you did," Jarod finished for her.

She didn't say anything, but maybe her silence said everything that needed to be said for her without even breathing a single word, a single _yes_.

* * *

"And, to the best of your knowledge, this all happened when Emily went missing after the car accident that killed her friend."

Margaret nodded. "Jarod..."

He nodded seriously.

"I made a mistake."

"How did you make a mistake?" he asked.

"It was a bad place. I sent Emily away to try to protect her from the Centre, but I'd forgotten that they weren't the only people out there that could – that would _want_ to – hurt her. I made a very bad mistake."

"What are you saying?"

"The boarding school that I sent your sister to, it wasn't just a boarding school, Jarod. They tried to do something to her there, tried to turn her into something. Those two girls didn't just take that car to be funny. They were scared! They were trying to get away!"

"But they had an accident?"

Margaret nodded carefully.

"And... the other girl died?"

"Young woman. She was quite a few years older than Emily. Yes, and she died..."

"And Emily... left. She left her friend to die and ran away, to save herself."

Margaret frowned. "Well, I don't know if she left her friend to _die_, Jarod; it may already have been too late."

"She died!"

Margaret blinked. It hurt her to have to bring all of this up, to damage things further. "Not... not technically."

"What does that mean?" Jarod asked.

"She didn't die, but she's not the same as she was before. The accident changed her."

"How do you know that? Have you been in contact since? Did you read it somewhere? Did someone tell you that? Where? Who?"

Margaret put a hand up to cut him off. "Jarod, that young woman was Miss Parker."

Jarod frowned, leaning away from her as though he couldn't quite understand what she'd said yet he'd interpreted it as something potentially harmful, something that might hurt him, given the chance.

"Her father did know, either. With all of his influence, all of his resources, he didn't know any more than I did that that school was bad, that it was a T-Corp recruitment and training camp," Margaret told him.

Jarod shook his head. Slowly, he said, "How did... How did Emily get from a T-Corp facility to... to within the Centre's grasps? That's what you think... You're going with that she knew, aren't you?"

"That she knew that Lyle was working for the Centre? Yes. I think... I think she got in a lot of trouble over the accident, Jarod. I think that's when they lost Miss Parker, I think that's when her father decided to take her out of school in Canada and send her to Europe. They would have been very angry. I think they _sent_ her to the Centre to _punish_ her."

Jarod frowned. "I don't understand. How would that work?"

"Emily isn't a Pretender, Jarod, but you know that there's a couple of expressions: Empathy, the Inner Sense, and so on?" She waited for Jarod's nod before explaining any further. "And you know, the Centre's stance on the anomaly? Specifically, on Recessives?"

"Yes."

"Do you know that T-Corp doesn't believe in Recessives as such?"

"Yes. They believe that the people the Centre defines as not possessing any extraordinary abilities are what they term Mediators. That they have the ability to assist Pretenders and Empaths to manage their abilities better by keeping the lines between the ability and the person clear. It's very hard to lie to Mediators and for them not to see through you like that."

"I believe that T-Corp believed your sister to be a Mediator. That was how she was able to withstand the conditioning that Miss Parker was not, but, with the aid of her friend, I believe that Miss Parker was able to see what was going on, finally, and what was being done to her, and that is when I believe the two decided to run away."

"I think I've heard this before," Jarod said, nodding suddenly. "Sydney mentioned being invited to a conference that was being held by T-Corp on the subject of Healers. The other girl, the younger one – _Emily_ – she was supposed to have died, wasn't she?"

"That was the official line," Margaret agreed.

"You... you thought she'd died?"

"Yes, for a couple of years, that is just what I thought."

"Until she came back... like that?"

"That's right."

"How did T-Corp expect her to pull off fooling the Centre into... What were they thinking?"

"If they were thinking, I think it was that they were very angry. I've looked into this before, Jarod, and I have a suspicion that Emily didn't just muck things up with Miss Parker; she was also able to contact someone on the outside who sent her a serum."

"The serum that disables biomech tags," Jarod said suddenly.

"That's the one."

"But she wouldn't tell them who, or who had developed the serum?"

"No. And I don't think she could have, Jarod, even if she'd been willing to give that person up; I don't think she knew who they were fully herself."

"So they..."

"I guess they were expecting her to be able to play the part, just _pretend_ that she was a Pretender! But it didn't work out, for obvious reasons."

"Do you know where they sent her?" It was a stupid question, and the answer was blindingly obvious, but Jarod asked anyway. "Do you know... if they hurt her?"

"She was sent to the experiment eugenics facility. IRIS. How I know... It's not all that complicated, actually. She has a tattoo on her back, and that's how I connected the dots."

"A tattoo?" Jarod asked.

"An angel."

Jarod frowned. "They figured onto that she wasn't a Pretender, but they didn't find out she was a T-Corp mole?"

"Not to begin with, I don't think so," Margaret replied.

"So... she was assigned as a carer?"

Margaret nodded. "Jarod, she didn't have any choice. She was a gift. They... She wasn't a person to them, just like you and your brother weren't; she was a toy. They gave her to him as a gift for being... for co-operating, for not acting out, and for his good work. It was just a game to them. But you know what, it wasn't out of the goodness of their hearts, I can assure you. They had an ulterior motive, and I can even tell you what I am _sure_ that was. He wasn't theirs and they _so_ wanted him to be, so they tricked him. Why would he have any reason to suspect a cute, little girl like our Emily? From what I've been hearing, he never has had much regard for women; he's never believed they could ever amount to much on their own. So, it was almost foolproof."

"They just wanted them to have children so the kids would be theirs? I really don't know why I'm surprised!"

"Nobody ever said it better!"


	4. Chapter 4

"I'll bet Raines would have had a treat over that one! He'd have been pleased, all right!"

"I imagine so," Margaret agreed.

"Did they ever have any children? You said that Emily had other children, not just the boy, but possibly others, too?"

"There was at least one other child; I was told that by the doctor who attended to the birth. I don't know any more than that, and I've never gotten up the courage to ask. I don't... I don't want to bring up unpleasant memories, if I can help it. I don't want to do that."

"You wouldn't know what happened to that child, either, then," Jarod supposed, sighing.

"No. Unfortunately."

"Damn it!" Jarod swore.

Margaret fiddled with a strand of hair by her ear, tucking it behind her ear though it hadn't come out to lay across her face.

"I don't- Why is she? Is it... some...? Is it about revenge?"

"Jarod, did you ever think that maybe she cares about him? She wouldn't be the first one to fall into that trap. She might be a Mediator, but she's a person, too. She has feelings, and she can get things wrong."

Jarod frowned. "Raines wanted me to have a Mediator, but the Tower weren't buying it. I guess they didn't believe in that sort of thing, back then. I don't know if it's changed..."

"Perhaps their lack of confidence wasn't in Mediators, but in Raines," Margaret added.

"You're right, that's not hard to imagine at all. He's constantly doing the wrong thing; no wonder Lyle thinks he can. 'He did!' It's ridiculous! Those two really do make out we're all fools!" He sighed. "Do you think the Centre found the boy?"

"Lyle? I don't know. I've been hoping not; I've been hoping that I made the right decision all those years ago, even if it was the wrong decision, too. I've been hoping something positive came out of it, but I don't know; I just don't know."

"Do you think Emily might know? Or... Lyle? Maybe... maybe she told him. If she trusts him... maybe...?"

Margaret gave this some thought. "And if he has Catherine's Voices..."

"That would make it all the more likely that he knows about the boy and, even possibly, they've been in contact or... Or they've already found a way to convince him to join them."

Margaret nodded and turned to glance at the door.

"Hi."

Jarod stood up abruptly.

"Dad and Mo are still talking to Emily and Harm," Ethan told them.

"Did Em tell you the news?" Jarod asked.

Ethan nodded silently.

"Shut the door and come over here," Jarod told him, making him frown. "I'll bet she didn't tell you what she told me," Jarod added, not wanting Ethan to think it was _him_ in trouble. No-one was in trouble, they just had some things to talk about.

Ethan closed the door behind him and walked over to the couch, glancing at Margaret for a long moment before turning his full attention to Jarod.

Beside Jarod, Margaret got to her feet as well, suddenly making Ethan feel very, very uncomfortable. He supposed it was because of Emily's news, because Jarod would have had all sorts of questions that he would have been adamant about having the answers to; he just hoped Emily hadn't come up with anything that Jarod would know straight away was a lie. Emily had told him about her time in boarding school before, and about what had happened after and how she'd been sent to IRIS. She told him about how she believed Lyle and she had Convergence, and that they had two children who were... who she supposed were both Empaths, like Reagan. There was a girl and a boy, both who weren't little children anymore but who were grown up and in their twenties. The girl was older than the boy by three and a half years, roughly.

He hadn't been angry at her, and neither had Mo, he'd just been angry at the Centre for their constant games, and their continual stupidity. And he'd been angry at T-Corp for thinking they could play that game, too.

Before they'd escaped, Miss Parker had been going to have a baby, Emily had told him, but because of the accident, she'd lost it. She'd been told her best friend was dead because of her, really – because _she_ was the elder – and she'd been sent off to Europe, to complete her studies.

He'd felt bad for his sister; that must have really messed her up, he'd figured, but he couldn't talk to her about it, he couldn't tell her that he'd heard this from Emily, or the friend that she'd thought was dead for so many years wasn't. He cared about them both, but he wasn't going to endanger either one of them by bringing up the past in that way, a past that was more than likely better left firmly in the past and forgotten about.

It was obvious, though, that even Emily missed her friend; that she'd have dearly liked to have told her friend everything, if only it was safe, but he knew that as long as it continued to pose a danger to them all, that she would say nothing, give nothing away.

Now, he wondered what Jarod might have construed out of her words. Despite what he thought about his half brother, he knew that Emily had been talking with him on somewhat of a regular basis, and that their daughter was living in Blue Cove. She'd escaped from IRIS at fifteen and, he imagined, it was very likely that she'd only come to Delaware because she'd known that was where her father was located. She wasn't working for the Centre, Emily had told him, though the Centre did know about her; they didn't know that she was a Possessor.

The boy, Emily had said, was living in Nebraska. He'd been working in a supermarket as a cashier, but he wasn't doing that anymore.

All of a sudden, it occurred to Ethan who the father of the baby – Hubertus, she had said his name was – might be, and he had a bad, bad feeling that he wasn't the only one who Emily had shared her secrets with.

"What's going on?" he asked, sounding genuinely as though he didn't know, and that was fair enough, because he didn't know, yet, what Jarod knew or didn't know; he didn't know the extent of things.

"Apparently Emily tells me that the baby's father is Lyle," Jarod revealed.

Ethan smiled in a kind of uncertain way. "What?"

"This is what she told me. I'm serious."

Ethan shook his head. "How... how would that happen?"

"How most babies 'happen,'" Jarod replied, amused.

Ethan threw him a glare. "How... Are you joking! He's mad. Really fucking mad! And Em knows it better than any of us! She wouldn't... Play that sort of game!"

"How do you know she wouldn't?" Jarod asked. "How do you know it's a game? She told me she loves him, and she thinks he love her, too. I can't fathom it, but this is what she says."

Ethan laughed. "Shut up! Shut up! Just... don't say another word!"

"How do you imagine we all feel about this, Ethan? We all feel the same way that you do, but it's Emily's life. It's her choice."

"No! No, it isn't! It's all of our lives!"

"Calm down. Don't get worked up, just take it easy. I didn't tell you so that you'd fly off the handle and royally lose it; I told you as a precaution. Which, yes, means that I don't want you passing this on to Dad or Geronimo."

"Excuse me?"

Jarod shook his head. "I don't want them to know. At least, not just yet."

"But she knows!" Ethan accused.

"Charming," Margaret commented.

Ethan frowned at her darkly. "You told her, but you're not prepared to tell Dad, too. Or Mo? Does... does Harm know? Or are you going to keep it from her, too?"

"It's not up to me, Ethan," Jarod told him firmly. "Emily told me; she didn't say that I could spread it around."

"'Spread it around!'" Ethan laughed, mock amused.

"Ethan, she just doesn't want anyone else knowing right now. It's not something that I find personally... wonderful, but I've already told Mom and I've already told you, and I'm not comfortable telling the others right now."

"And why tell me instead of Dad?"

"Because I wasn't sure whether or not Dad would be able to handle hearing something like that."

Ethan laughed.

"Just yet," Jarod added. "Ethan, I don't want Dad going and doing anything stupid. You know how he gets about us. He's our father, for goodness sakes! But I don't want him getting hurt, and I don't want any of the rest of us getting hurt, either. We all get to live another day."

Ethan smiled. "Except Kyle."

"Ethan, Kyle has been gone for a long time now. Don't... don't bring all that up again. I don't find it particularly pleasant, as I don't imagine any of us do. Just... don't. We have to live, and go on. As much as I've never considered myself any particular friend of Mr. Parker, and as cruel as it may have seemed in the circumstance, it also wasn't wrong when he said _Life goes on_. It does. It has to. And so do we. We don't have any other choice. So this is where we are now, Ethan, the past is the past. Right now, this is where we are. I would _very much_ appreciated if you'd keep Dad out of this for the moment. I'm not trying to patronise you, but I know we all feel the same way about each other; we're all a family and we care for one another deeply, so... so let's just try to keep it that way. Let's not set Dad off on some... desperate campaign."

Ethan shook his head, but Jarod walked up to him tentatively and put his arms around him.


	5. Chapter 5

"Hey, Silv! What's up?" Debbie asked, walking over to her friend and wrapping her arms around her in a big, squishy warm hug.

"Nothing. Lucky's pissing me off. So what's new."

"How did he piss you off?"

"Eww! He's acting a right tosser! He thinks he's fucking Reston's brother, or something! Like I care, I'm pissed off, so can we talk about something else?"

Debbie smiled. "Sure."

"Did I tell you that Evan asked me out on a date?"

"No. Oh my God! He did?"

"Yes," Silvie intoned, sounding not very enthused at all. She'd been chatting to Evan for almost a whole year online, and now he'd asked if they could meet.

Debbie grinned. "And what did you say?"

"I'd give it some thought."

"What?"

"Yes. There are serious stalkers online, not to mention creeps! I happen to have some experience in that department, my father's not only the Tosser from Tosserville, he's also the Creep from Creepville; eleven years running, _baby_! Which would make me, like, Junior Creep Apprentice of the Year, or something, because I talk to the _jerk_!"

"He's your father, Silvie," Debbie replied sensibly.

"But he's a lying, fucking you know what begins with _p_."

"Go on, then," Debbie challenged teasingly. "What begins with _p_?"

"Player. Parker. Pedestrian. Pr... imative! Private conversation, do not crash, jerk! Which, wow, like he'd even know the meaning of the word _private_."

"I don't know," Debbie replied. "Anyway, I need to know. Promise me you're not going to tell Evan you'll go out with him and then stand him up!"

Silvie rolled her eyes. "Fine, I won't stand him up," she huffed.

"Yay!"

"Un-yay..."

"What's wrong?" Debbie asked.

"Can we change the topic, before I go around to his _townhouse _and steal his bin and find it a nice, yucky landfill site for it to get cosy at!"

"Why?"

"For a laugh, daft one!"

"I don't know what to talk about, unless it's..." she laughed.

"Is Parker coming to lunch with us?"

Debbie nodded. "Yeah."

"What were you going to say, before I so stupidly interrupted?" Silvie asked.

"Cute boys!" she grinned. Dropping the smile suddenly, she added, "and not centrifuges!"

Both girls laughed, shaking their heads, then looked around at the shelves around them, filled with novels.

"Where are we meeting?"

"Pretty much where we are right now," Debbie supplied.

"Awesome!"

They burst into laughter again.

* * *

"Hi," Parker said, walking up to them and sighing. "So, how are things?"

"Okay," they both replied.

"Amazingly, yes, I'm going to have to go for the same answer. Where are we all thinking of going to lunch?"

"You choose," Silvie replied, to which Debbie nodded.

"I choose... Well, what about Whiskers Blake?"

Silvie glanced at Debbie with narrowed, suspicious eyes. "Do you know what he called that fish?"

"No."

"_Inhlanzi_."

Debbie snorted. "What?"

Silvie rolled her eyes. "It means _fish_."

"Which fish is this?" Parker asked.

"The really big one," Silvie replied, and reeled off its scientific name. To Debbie, she added, "It was either that or _ulwandle_."

"Which means?"

"The sea. You, Debbie, are _inyosi_, the bee." She smiled. "I have a date!" she told Parker excitedly.

"I'm happy for you," Parker replied.

"She's never been on a date before!" Debbie dobbed her in, with a grin. "She's so freaked out right now!"

"I am _so not _freaked out right now!" Silvie protested. "I'm excited!"

"Are you sure it's excitement and not fear?" Debbie asked.

"Yes!"

"You so have my number if you need to ring me any time, 'kay."

"I'm not going right now," Silvie told her.

"You better ring me later, though."

"I will."

"_Ngiyajabula_."

"What?"

Debbie stuck her tongue out at her. "I'm hungry."

"Same."

They turned to look at Parker. "You're done?" Parker asked.

"Pretty much," they agreed.

"Well, let's go then."

The two younger women linked arms and followed Parker out of the book store.


	6. Chapter 6

"I understand your frustration, darlin'. You wish we could all be a family, together. And so do I, but I just don't see how that is possible, at least, not right now."

Silvie reached over for her bottle of beer sitting on the coffee table and took a sip. "Let me guess, because of her, right? Well now it's your turn to guess something for me. Am I, or am I not _sick to fuckin' death_ of your ridiculous obsession with that woman? Yes, I fuckin' well am! Wake up, Lucks! Your _family_ needs you, _she_ doesn't! She never has!"

Lyle sighed. "That isn't true, darl, and you know it. Mel needs her family around her as much as anyone does, and she needs me as much as you guys do."

Silvie shook her head. "Where are you living? Clearly, you're sufferin' some sort of mental disturbance, cos you ain't thinkin' straight, boy. She don't need you, she ain't gonna turn out like her mama; it's you who needs her, and you gotta get over that. Are you hearin' anythin' I'm saying at all, or am I just talkin' to Tinker Bell?"

"You're upset," Lyle began.

"_Don't_ try that Sydney shit on me, daddy, I ain't gonna stand for it, you hear me. I will throw your ass out that door faster than you can say _Brylcreem_!"

"'Brylcreem'?"

"You heard me!"

"I didn't want to start this with your mother all over again-"

"Then why the fuck did you? Why, dad?"

He sighed. "Watch your language now, hon, it's becoming quite a habit and you know what they say about habits, they have the nasty tendency of wreaking all manner of havoc right when we're least suspectin'."

She narrowed her eyes sarcastically. "Change the topic! Typical!"

"I am not changing the topic, darling. I... I mucked up, all right. It was... _is_... inexcusable. I should... I should have been able to... Honey, I still care about your mother a great deal and you don't know how it is-"

"I don't know how it is?" Silvie laughed hysterically, plonking her beer back down on the coffee table loudly. "I _don't know_ how it is!"

"No, sweet'eart, you don't. You've never been in a relationship like the one your mom and I... I'm not insultin' you, darl, not at all, in whole or in part. That's not it. I'm just... I guess I'm angry at myself. I wanted your mom to... to move on and meet someone else, someone who'd be good to her, someone she could care for the way she really wants to care for someone, the way we should all be entitled to care for someone else."

"But she doesn't care about someone else, she cares about _you_! And you're just so fucking oblivious because she's not precious _Mel_!"

"That isn't true, at all!" he replied, in a firm tone.

"Yeah, whatever," she muttered, wholly un-thrilled to be spoken to as though she was a child and not an adult of 26 years.

"Silv... Why don't... why don't you tell me how lunch went? Did you have a good time? How's Debbie?"

"How 'bout I don't," Silvie said in a quiet, disinterested voice.

"You know I-"

She shook her head. "Save it for mom! She always buys your lies! I don't know why, but she does! Every time!"

"I can see you'd really rather I weren't here, gettin' under your feet, wastin' your time."

"You pretty much hit the nail on the head there, dad!" she agreed. "I do have a date to get ready for, in any case. So... I reckon you should leave. Tuh-tah!" She didn't look at him, but instead made a show of checking her watch for the time.

He nodded. "Alright, you, um, you make sure you get home safely, though, alright. And... if you need someone to come pick you up, you know my number. You can call me-"

She pointed to the door to the hallway. "And I'm five years old, dad! I think not! Make yourself useful for once, get out! Toodleloo, tallyho!"

* * *

"That's wonderful news, daddy!" Debbie told her dad, over the phone. She nodded, "Uh-huh, I love you, too. I hope you have a good night. Call me... any time at all. Alright. Catch ya. Yep. See you, daddy." She snapped her cell phone shut and nodded, slipping her phone away into a pocket. "What's going on? You look happy."

"Silvana's upset. What's new? But you know what, what if she's right?"

Debbie tilted her head to a side. "Take it from me... it's not like people think, your whole family's important, and that just happens to include your sister, if you ask me. Silvie's been pissed off for a while, and there ain't not talkin' to her about it. She's just not ready to talk about what's really getting' under her skin, I guess. All we can do is give her time."

"You know, I was the same age she is now when I... when I left her."

"That ain't got nothin' to do with this. I should say, That hasn't got anything to do with this. Well, hardly anything."

"I think it has a lot to do with this," Lyle replied.

"Well I'm not going to stop you from thinking what you're gonna think, but I'm not agreeing, either. Silvie's gotta learn to put that behind her, it's in the past. Nothing we do now can change what has already happened, not at what level we are at now; unless you know where one can find a cheap, reliable time machine, I'd say you're out of luck. She has to admit that it happened, yes, and then put it behind her. If she can't do that, then she's not going to be able to move on properly."

"Easier said than done."

"Well, you've managed to-"

"No, not really. Not with anything in my life. Not with my sister, or my parents, or Lin, not with Silvie, or... Oh no, I haven't. It just looks that way, on the surface. But I haven't, Johnny, I really haven't."

Debbie sighed, finally. "Yeah, I'm still pissed at my folks for varying reasons, too." She tossed her chin. "Easier said than done."

"That's exactly right."

Debbie smiled. "Ah, but it's not the end of the world."

"No, it isn't."

"Why don't you ring her? Go on, it won't kill you. And I bet she'll be pleased to hear from you."


	7. Chapter 7

"Enough with this bullshit, dad!" Silvie said, striding into the kitchen and taking the box of chocolates from the table. "Everyone knows the only reason you eat this shit is because you want sympathy, you loony!"

"Not true," Lyle told her, reaching for another chocolate and earning himself a loud slap on the hand. "I see someone's date went well, in other news."

She laughed, highly, highly amused - in another universe! "Very well, thank you for asking!" she mock gushed. "He didn't want anything to do with me... just as soon as he laid eyes on me."

"I suppose you're back late because..."

"I'm your daughter, you totally read my mind, we're _that_ alike! Yeah, cos I thought I'd just tell you how much of a wonderful, fantastic time I had whilst lying through my teeth and you'd never, even - in a million years - suspect I was lying!"

"And what happened to the lying part?" he asked.

"I hate lies! I fucking hate them! You, and that fucking dead uncle of mine, fuckin' full of them! And, fuck, I have enough of my own - I don't need any _more_! Plus, I'm hungry. That's my mother in me. Did you make anything for tea?"

"Burritos."

"You weirdo!" She crossed her arms and took a seat at the table. "So don't just sit there feeling all dejected because your only daughter called you a _mean_ name, make yourself useful and go serve me up something to eat before I come down with diabetes, or something."

"Charming," he replied, getting to his feet. "It's very obvious that you inherited all of my most charming assets, I think."

"Boy, you're a mind reader! I'll bet Broots was thinking exactly the same thing! 'She seemed so charming on the internet, so innocuous, so innocent! How did I go wrong? Oh, God; Oh, God! Get me out of here! I have to get away!'"

Lyle sighed. "You undersell yourself, darl. You don't listen to music that could be double as a torture device, you don't smoke and you don't drink in excess; yep, so your language isn't exactly squeaky clean, but, come on, you don't talk like that around other people, just your father, and you care about other people. Lastly, you're a very pretty young woman. And I'm proud of you for exactly all of those things."

She rolled her eyes, staring at the chocolates with a _What are you looking at?_ frown. "Figures that you're not proud of me for my exceptional intellect or understanding of the human condition!" she joked, only slightly kidding.

He shook his head. "Darl, you need to really relax."

"I'll relax when that little fuck Kyle comes here - in person - to tell me to!" she replied angrily.

"Somehow, I don't think that's going to happen anytime soon, love," he told her, walking back to the table with a plate which he put down in front of her, then went to fill a glass with water from the tap.

She rolled her eyes. "All the guys in this family, I swear, they're crazy!"

"Jarod's not crazy," Lyle pointed out.

"Says you," she replied.

"No, not just me," he debated. "Other people, too."

"What other people?"

"S-Sydney."

"Oh, and that's not just Sydney covering his own ass!" She laughed.

Lyle shook his head. "Eat your tea, go on. Then you better... ring Debbie and tell her how things went. She'll be waiting for you to call."

"Yeah right," Silvie droned.

"Yes, she will. That's right. After that, I have something nice for you."

"Pornography," she asked dully.

"No, baby, not pornography," he said.

She pulled a face. "Don't try that fuckin' Catherine 'baby' shit on me, dad, it's really fuckin' sickening!"

"Eat your dinner."

"Don't call me 'baby,' lame brain."

"Fine. I won't. Are you pleased, now?"

"No."

"Well eat your dinner."

"Like that's going to make me more pleased..."

He pointed at her food.

She scowled and poked a finger at her burrito. "Tomorrow, I'm asking Broots if he's managed to heist any good Centre porn. He think we're to_gether_, you know. It's so fuckin' funny! He'll think I'm really a chop off the old block, then!"

"If that's what you want to do..."

"Fuck you!"

"I'm making myself a coffee."

"Lame brain!"

* * *

When she'd finished her food and called Debbie to tell her her date with her father was a flop, Silvie put her plate in the sink to be washed up at a later date and walked into the lounge room where Lyle wasn't watching television but was looking through the FBI file he'd obviously obtained by illegal, devious means, and was looking at the crime scene photographs of a bunch of dead girls, all of whom he knew all together too much about, and one of who he might say, when pressed, was one of his best friends. Yeah, because he had best friends who were dead: more than one of them.

When she came in, he put the picture of Chiyo back in the file with the other dead girls and closed the folder.

"You said you had something nice for me," she recalled, not at all excited.

"That's right." He stood up, and walked over to her, stopping in front of her to give her a hug. "Are you feelin' better now?"

"No. Now can I just have my nice thing and a bit of fucking peace?"

He walked off and came back with... She moaned. "I have coats!" she informed him darkly.

"You can never have enough coats, darlin'."

"Yeah, bullshit! Do you want me to tell your sister who's really been getting her all those crappy coats and scarves and utterly boring shit for Christmas."

"Why, Mira has."

"No, dad, _E_than hasn't. You have!"

"I don't know what you're talking about," he said, then sighed. "It's cold, I thought..."

Silvie tilted her head, offering him a fake smile. "Gee, pa, I absolutely love it! I just can't get over how much I simply, simply love it! I've stars in my eyes, I'm that in love!"

"Alright, I get the message."

She grabbed the coat off him. "Anyway, thanks for tea and the wonderful, fantastic, gorgeous, happy _Yay!_ coat, dad!"

He handed her his cell phone, the one with the fake stick on diamonds on the back in the pattern of some happy, yellow flower that made her queasy in her stomach just looking at it. "Why don't you call your mum and... just talk, yeah? I'll be... upstairs, whatever, not interrupting. Talk to you mum, darl; she'd really love that, and I'm sure you will, too, once you get talking."

"There's nothing to talk about, and absolutely fucking N-O-thing for _me_ to talk to _her_about, or vice versa!"

"Yeah there is," he said.

She stuck her finger up at him.

"Just talk to her; she misses you."

"Ha-fuckin'-ha, _dad_!"

"You mightn't think so, but it's true. She misses both of you; your brother and you, both."

Silvie rolled her eyes and snatched the stupid looking phone off him. "Fuck off," she scowled, so he did.


	8. Chapter 8

She'd put all that effort in, and then just been turfed out the door. It hurt! What was more, she knew exactly what Broots had been thinking: What are you doing chatting up guys on the internet when your with someone? Are you a serial killer, too? That had really helped her mood!

She'd gone over to her dad's thinking maybe they'd be able to talk about it, but then she'd just got mad when she'd seen him eating those chocolates. She knew it wasn't because he was hoping to make himself sick in effort to win someone's sympathy vote; it made him feel closer to his mother - his birth mother, Catherine - apparently, just like using her stupid words - like 'baby' - did, or her accent. She knew how it was with him; he was weird. She was weird, too; she got it. She was his kid. Given what she was, too, it would have been pretty hard to miss it, to _not_ get it, but tonight, she was just pissed off... so she was mean.

And then she felt bad.

And then she felt like she didn't deserve anybody's kindness.

And then she was angry at herself for thinking such a childish thing.

Talking to her mom helped a bit, so when she went upstairs to say _Bye_, she at least didn't sound like she wanted to kill her dad anymore, and she gave him a hug and said _Thanks_ for the coat and goodnight.

Tomorrow, she'd talk to Debbie about it a bit more and hopefully she'd feel much better about it. She did wish Kyle could come and see her - he was dead, after all - but, like her dad had said, probably wouldn't happen, ever.

* * *

Lyle turned away from the front door his daughter had just left out of and considered calling Broots to talk to him about being so gentlemanly about their date, but decided against it. Yeah, that just make Broots think they were an item all the more, and he wasn't going to go telling Broots the kid was his daughter until Silvie felt comfortable. So, yeah, he'd expected that that would have been Broots's first suspicion, but, as it was not, he wasn't keen on it now, not since Broots would also have access to the file that said his daughter was Centre property who had escaped the facility she'd been housed in in Canada.

He turned back to lock the door and walked back upstairs, wondering if Tazu would be waiting to talk to him about his daughter's strange, angry behaviour of late. But she wasn't. He picked his cell phone up from the bed where Silvie had left it, and sat down. He found the Address Book and looked through the names, thinking of all the people he could call but didn't really feel like talking to.

Then he sighed and decided - to Hell with it - he'd call Emily after all.

Maybe they'd just talk about nothing really, or she'd bring up some current affair that they could safely talk about for hours and he could tell himself it was okay that they talked over the phone a couple of times a month, it was okay that they weren't all a family like they should have been, because... because that would have been dangerous, and the time wasn't right, and a whole host of other things, but it was okay because there was always the telephone, the good old telephone.

It would be a fantastical lie - nothing more - but sometimes, he told himself, you had to lie to yourself; sometimes, you had no choice.


	9. Chapter 9

"Camping! I bet she'd love that! I could... ask the Tower for permission to take Reagan with us, ask Parker if she'd like to come with; it'll be great!"

Cox pulled a face. Oh, yeah, great! Somehow, he didn't think so. Not with Silvie's current mood. Sometimes, that girl could scare him, and he didn't want her deciding she was mad at Reags and hurting the boy.

"Frankie." Lyle's expression was suddenly very serious and Cox reminded himself that he had to be careful around Lyle or his sister, Parker; they did have some form of perception, one way or another, both of them did.

"What if she tries to take him away?" he asked in a low voice. "What if she thinks she'll finish what Catherine started? He's her brother!"

"I hope she does," Lyle muttered.

"_You_'d be the one in trouble for it!" Cox reminded him.

"And?"

"And what about your sister?"

"She's an adult, she can do what she wants."

Cox huffed, feeling like slapping his friend. "It's like she's your bloody twin! Would you... just stop with this morbid bollocks! It's upsetting my frame of mind, you might have noticed!"

"I didn't notice."

"Well, maybe you should start, Lyle!"

"Why should I?"

"Do you want your sister to start with this, too? Do you?"

"She won't; she's indescructable when she's got a purpose behind her."

"And what purpose is that, exactly?"

"Fuck if I know! Bringing this place down? Bringing all of _us_ down? I like it already!"

"Stop it!"

Lyle shook his head. "I have to go make a nuisance of myself, if you'll excuse me! Tallyho!"

Cox sighed, shaking his own head slightly. "You're insufferable! You know what, I think I know who inherited _that_ from their mother, and it wasn't Parker!"

Lyle rolled his eyes. "We're nothing alike. She didn't want me, I don't want... shit! Hhhh! Well, see, except misery! She... she wasn't like that! She wanted to bring people hope for a brighter future, that's not my thing! So we're not alike!"

"You're both incurably morbid," Cox added.

"Cat wasn't morbid, she was sick."

"And you're not."

"Piss off."

"I thought that's what you were doing?"

"I am," Lyle snapped, and disappeared around the corner.

Cox shook his head once more and headed in the opposite direction, towards Med Space. He frowned, then stopped. Catherine only hadn't wanted him because she'd not known that he was around to want. The next time he saw Lyle, he told himself, he'd be sure and remind him of that fact.

* * *

When Broots saw him, he just laughed. Lyle ignored him and went to see if the photocopier had been fixed yet or if there was someone he could go and yell at for not seeing to it. To his annoyance, it looked like it was working. Frowning, he then remembered why. Right, that was because the person who was supposed to fix it was sick, so he'd just had a look at it himself. He wondered if he should press some buttons and see if it buggered up again, just to have something to be angry at, then sighed and decided not to. He'd just go and get himself a coffee and see if he could think up something to say to his sister to piss her off the first moment she saw him - _Because that's always fun!_ he thought sarcastically.

Finished making himself a coffee, he turned around to find a seat somewhere and found Broots standing next to him with a smile on his face. "Your girlfriend's cheating on you, you know," he said. "It's sure as Hell not with me, but I wouldn't trust her around that Reston, or, for that matter, Porter. Your _son_! I've seen them two getting quite chummy, you know."

"Fuck off," Lyle told him, and walked off.

Broots stared after him for a long moment. What the Hell! He was just trying to be helpful and set him on the right path about his girlfriend, and this was what he got! "I'm not making this up!" he called after him. "She's not trustworthy! I knew it from the first moment Debbie told me about her, and I know it still! She hasn't changed one bit!"

Narrowing his eyes, Porter - wearing a Visitor Pass - stalked past and walked over to the sofa where Lyle had decided to take a seat and sat down next to him. "What's up?" he asked. "And, yes, you'd best be careful saying my name, I do just happen to have the nasty tendency to spring out of the woodworks just at the exact moment after someone's said something about me... like _magic_! It's a joke! What's with the coffee?"

"Go talk to Broots."

"That guy? Why would I talk to him?"

"He thinks Silvie's cheating with you."

"Cheating on who?" Porter asked suddenly, sitting up straighter. "She has someone! I didn't know this!"

"According to Broots, we're an item," Lyle told him, with a tiny little bit of a smile.

"Dude, that's pretty fuckin' funky, man! Broots must be goin' blind or something, cos, I gotta say, if that girl don't have your eyes, I don't know whose she's got!"

"She hasn't got my eyes," Lyle told him.

"Granted, they're not blue, but putting aside that, they look just like yours."

"Rubbish."

"They do."

"If you say so," Lyle muttered.

"It's true."

Lyle shook his head. "Don't go saying that to Broots, Lyle."

"Why not?" Porter asked, confused.

"Because I don't want him knowing she's my daughter," he said quietly.

"Oh. Right. No, of course not. I'll... shut up about it."

"Thank you."

"No probs, B-buddy."

"Yeah."

"B?"

"What?"

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine."

Porter sighed. "I mean, really okay. I'm your friend, could you not pull that crap with me, for just one second?"

"I'm okay, I just have a lot of things that I'm thinking about right now, okay. That doesn't mean I'm not okay."

Porter shrugged.

"I'm okay," Lyle repeated.

"Okay." He looked around the room. "I thought maybe you could have a look at one of my papers for me, just to see if there was anything you thought could be done better, maybe?"

"Of course I can, Lyle."

Porter made a face, and shook his head. "Thanks, really."

"Did you bring it with you?"

"Yep."

"Is it okay if you leave it with me overnight?"

"Er... I think so."

"Okay. Be sure and drop by and say 'hello' to Plum and Cherry whilst you're around, won't you."

"Sure will."

"Alright."

Porter nodded, passing Lyle his essay, and stood up.

"You have fun."

"I may look 26," Porter began.

"You're never too old to see the lighter side to life, Lyle."

"Right back at ya!" Porter replied.

"Thing are a little different between you and I, Lyle."

"No they aren't," Porter told him. "You're a person, too, just like any of us."

"Alright, of course, you have a point. I am... a person, too. I guess there's something to keep my mind preoccupied, something to work on, hmm?"

"You got it. See ya!"

"Buh-bye."

From across the room, Broots watched Porter leave before walking over to join Lyle at the coffee table, but he didn't sit down. "What was that about? Was he pleading innocent, and you believed him?"

"What that was about is frankly none of your business, Broots," Lyle told him. "I'm in a bad mood so... just don't talk to me. I'm not- I don't want to talk to anyone right now, okay. Not when I'm like this because I know, better than anyone, what I'm like, and I know I'm just going to say something that'll hurt you, or piss you off, so just go away. Just go."

Broots made a face. "I don't have anyone else to talk you."

"Then find someone. Give it a shot."

"It's not-"

"And it's not as hard as you make it out to be, either, Broots, Goddamn it! It's just an excuse, don't you see that! You're frightened of change, so you make up excuses and convince yourself that they're real, that they're important, and that you have a duty to take notice of them even if that not what you really want to do! Just... leave me alone!"

"I don't make up excuses and convince myself they're real."

Lyle laughed. "Go away!"

"That's not true," Broots protested.

"I'm not listenting to you," Lyle told him.

"I don't," Broots continued. "It's not true. Besides, Syd would have said so already, if... if it was true."

Lyle rolled his eyes. "He wouldn't have! You...! There are somethings a person just can't bring themselves to say to someone they care about, someone they consider a friend, whether they're true or not, Broots! Can't you understand that! He doesn't want to hurt you and drive you away from him! He needs you as a friend as much as you need him - so that's something he can't do! Not that!"

"Sydney-"

"He thinks the same thing that you do. It's too hard to meet people, what if I just upset them, unbalance them, what if I get them hurt, it'll never work, I'll just end up hurting myself more and making myself all the more bitter for it."

"Then what do I do?" Broots asked.

"Go away!"

"To make friends?" Broots rephrased.

Lyle put a hand on his head, just wishing Broots would leave him alone. "Talk to people. Go out there and meet people and _talk_ to them. But really go out there and meet them!"

Broots frowned. "Go out and meet people and talk to them," he recapped, and nodded. "Okay, you know what, I think that's going to be my new resolution! Yes, it is! I'm going to go and meet people - not on the web - but real people, in real life, face to face! And I'm going to make friends!"

Lyle didn't say anything.

"And... a coffee," Broots added, realising suddenly that in all the time he'd spent standing by the coffee maker and the urn, he hadn't remembered to make himself a coffee; he'd been too preoccupied by his thoughts. He'd want to make one before Parker arrived, he thought, or else she'd get the skids under him royally fast and there'd be no time for chit chat, no time for coffee, no time for anything else except chasing up Jarod and searching for a lead, if Jarod felt like leaving one at all that day. And he did want a coffee today, he realised.

With a nod, he walked off back the way he'd come, reciting to himself mentally: Make coffee, Go out and meet people. Make coffee, Go out and meet people.

* * *

Right on cue, five minutes later, Parker strode in accompanied by Sydney to ask if there were any leads on Jarod and shoot her brother a dark look.

Broots told her that, so far, there hadn't been any leads, and she stalked out again, Sydney following her. Broots made a show of not staring after them stupidly, thinking that they were probably in the middle of a conversation and that was why Sydney was following her around, or else he was _trying_ to get her to talk, he thought. Syd spent about as much time trying to talk to Parker as he did anything else, and a only fraction of that time actually talking to her, and it did help if they were locked in a room together or thrust into some dire end-of-the-world-as-we-know-it situation, then, sometimes, she could be persuaded to talk.

_How would I go about meeting someone like that in real life?_ Broots wondered, then wondered why he'd want to. _Because she's a person, too, you know_, he immediately countered, and she needs friends and love as much as the next person, even if she can't see it; everyone does.

He snickered. Oh, he was _so_ waiting for Raines to join the Dare Ring one day so they could dare him to actually take some vacation time, or meet a nice woman! Maybe they could trick him into it somehow, he thought, or push him in that direction. If they got Fulton in on it, he'd surely want to join up so he could dare he not to yell at him, just for one day. Yeah, that would be the way to go about it. Or he'd want to know, once and for all, if she was planning on taking over Cox's position by foul play. She'd always wanted Deputy Directorship of Med Space, he'd heard, so Raines must have heard it, too, and if someone was going to be a threat to his love child, then, that was a very serious matter, he decided. If he'd had love children, it would have been, in any case.

He laughed. The thought of Raines having love children was just hilarious, unless the Centre had cooked that one up the same way they had the Parker twins, though, somehow, he didn't imagine Patience Cox buying that for one second, no thankie you, very much, siree.

He smiled, and sipped his coffee, glancing at his computer screen for a moment where there was nothing new, what a surprise!


	10. Chapter 10

After lunch, Miss Parker decided she'd had enough of paperwork, and took a walk with Broots back to Tech Space. She hadn't seen her brother in the dining hall, and she wondered why. He had been talking to Lyle that morning, she'd noticed. She glanced across at Broots, just remembering something, "Did you know Silvie had a date yesterday?" she asked.

Surprisingly, he nodded, replying, "Yeah, I did."

With interest, she asked, "Do you know how it went? Good?"

He sighed. "No. It didn't go good. She'd only talked to this person over the internet, before yesterday."

Parker nodded, knowing that things like that could often present problems when the people finally met in person and found that they just didn't click with the other person. "How is she? Is she alright?"

Broots looked away from her for a moment. "Debbie didn't tell me, Miss Parker, I know this because I'm the person she was talking to on the net." He gave a sigh. "I was unfair; I said some things that weren't nice, that a person doesn't say unless they fully intend on hurting that other person. I should- I should apologise, but I'm not sure how to do that."

Far from looking as though she might laugh, Parker looked suddenly very serious. Broots felt uncomfortably reminded of Sydney, or her brother; the lot of them could be cheerful one moment, and entirely serious the next.

"I'm afraid I may make matters worse," Broots added, honestly.

Miss Parker sighed. "Well, if you really can't face her at this point, perhaps it would be best if you wrote with your apology, instead? But I must ask, how bad were the things you said, Broots?"

"Bad," he intoned.

"For instance," Parker prompted.

He sighed. "I accused her of cheating on her boyfriend, for one."

Parker frowned. "Broots, you know she doesn't have a boyfriend."

"Yeah, and that's just a story she's convinced Debbie to parrot on her behalf. You have no idea how friendly she is with your brother. I'm telling you-"

Miss Parker put her hand up, leaning closer to him. "Broots," she said seriously, "isn't it obvious? She's his daughter." She stared at him, then, as though she couldn't quite grasp the thickness of his assumption.

"What?"

She rolled her eyes, and nodded. "She's his daughter, trust me. If they were romantically involved, she wouldn't... they'd interact differently, believe me, Broots."

"Differently how?"

She shook her head. "It doesn't matter; I'm telling you she has to be his kid. Come on, where did she come when she ran away from home? Here, to Blue Cove. What has she told Debbie about her parents, about either of them? Nothing; Debbie assumes they're dead. Think about it, Broots, she came here for a reason; she couldn't stand her mom anymore so she thought she'd come here and see what her dad was like, if he was any better. I'll bet her mom has serious problems herself, to have- Let's face it, what woman would fall for my brother's crap if there wasn't something wrong with her or she was desperate, or... or there was some cultural divide which prevented her from understanding that he had serious fucking issues?"

She sighed. "You've seen them together, heard them talking. He doesn't even approach her in the same manner as he does those other women; if they'd been together, it would be noticeable."

"Not if he's trying to hide it," Broots argued.

She made a face. "She's his daughter, Broots. God, it's so obvious to me. I realise she must resemble her mother more, but she isn't without her physical similarities to her father, also. I'm imagining her mother's quite a small person, and, as you and I both know, Silvie isn't small; she's not short."

"If he's her father, then why didn't he get mad at me when I mentioned her this morning?" Broots challenged.

"Mentioned her how?"

"I told him that she was cheating on him and that I hadn't trusted her from the start. I said she wasn't trustworthy, even now."

"That really wasn't necessary, was it?"

"It's true! If she's his daughter, that goes double!"

Miss Parker frowned. "Broots, you know something, she might actually be quite damaged herself. You don't need to be further aggravating the situation."

"She's Debbie's best friend!"

"I know, I know; and you're not happy with that, but it is Debbie's choice," Parker pointed out.

He laughed. "Oh, and let's see what happens when she finds out who her best friend's father is, eh!"

"Broots, don't go pissing her off any further, or Lyle. If you lose her her only friend, I don't want to think how Lyle might take that. You have a daughter, you know how it is. Even Raines, who couldn't give a fuck about anyone, had cared about his daughter."

"She's my daughter and if she's in danger, I'm entitled to let her know."

"I doubt very much that Silvie would ever hurt Debbie, Broots. She loves that girl like a sister. She wouldn't let her dad hurt her, either. I know what you think about her, but I can tell you this; if push came to shove, she wouldn't be taking her father's side, she'd stick up for your daughter! Debbie is her sister now. She's not going to let _anyone_ hurt her sister."

"And Debbie wouldn't be hurt if she found out her best friend had been chatting with her dad on the net for months?" Broots asked.

"Debbie wants to see Silvie happy as much as she wants you to be happy, Broots. You have to understand how hard it must have been for Debbie; she'd just lost her mom and moved to a new town to live with her dad, who she'd fallen out of touch with years ago. All her friends were too far away, her mom who, though she'd been mistreating her, had still been there for her when you hadn't. And then Silvie comes along. How do you think that all clicks in her head? Both girls were looking for someone to fill the emotional holes they felt in their hearts, and then they found each other. I'm not saying that they've got guy issues, I'm just saying it's more likely that they'd be loyal to each other, rather than some guy."

"You think Debbie would take that girl's side over mine?" Broots said, annoyed.

"Isn't it obvious? Hasn't it been that way so far? She's refused to stop being Silvie's friend, though you've objected all along."

Broots shook his head, suddenly looking weary and very worried. "What if they're... involved?" he asked.

"I doubt it," Parker replied.

He frowned, but pressed on with another question, "And what if Debbie met a guy and wasn't spending as much time with her friend, anymore? Would that make her mad, or vengeful?"

"I don't know, Broots. As it is, I don't know the girl that well."

"If she hurts my baby girl-"

"Look, let's not start thinking that way," Parker told him.

He shook his head, not at all happy with her attitude.

Parker sighed. "In honesty, Broots, I have a suspicion that I knew one of the girl's relations on her mother's side, probably her aunt, okay. She was a good person. If the girl's anything like her mom, she's not going to hurt Debbie."

"Lyle is her father!"

"I said that is my suspicion," Parker reminded him. She sighed heavily. "And are you so sure that Debbie isn't involved with my brother? Those two seem to get along quite well."

Broots shook his head vehemently, "I wouldn't hear of it!"

"Well, that's my point exactly, Broots. Perhaps she's been keeping it a secret; perhaps that was the agenda behind Lyle getting to know his daughter again, to make a move on her friend. After all, wouldn't it look much better for his daughter to trust him if he was trying to win Debbie over for some sinister plot that he had planned, than for the girl to hate him like the plague? Debbie's your daughter; you work with me. Are you seeing the correlations here?"

"I couldn't buy something like that!" Broots told her angrily.

She shrugged. "I know my brother, Broots, and I know he's not to be trusted under any circumstance."

Seeing Sydney up ahead, the pair fell suddenly silent; Parker offering Sydney a quiet nod.

* * *

The chairman shook his head. "It would never go through," he told Lyle.

"You won't even ask?"

The chairman sighed. "No, I'm not going to ask; I don't want to make a fool of myself, nor of you. I know what they'll say, so why bother?"

"They don't own us," Lyle replied. "If you really wanted to, you could overrule them. Reagan is not their property, he's my brother, Miss Parker's brother! He's not someone's 'project', he's a person."

"Unfortunately," the chairman sighed, "upon the event of your father's death, the boy was transferred into the custody of the Centre, not the Parker family."

Lyle shook his head. "_This_ branch, not the Tower!"

"Be that as it may," the chairman began.

"Are you going to let them walk all over us?" Lyle asked angrily. "My family, nor the employees of this company, did not put as much as they did into this just to have the chairman allow himself to be told what's best for his company by a bunch of... of idiots who, let's face it, are not here, and have no fucking idea. Don't tell me I don't know how those idiots work, because I do, and they have no fucking idea when it comes to what goes down here!"

The chairman shook his head. "I think we've discussed this for long enough, don't you?" he said, pointing to the door.

Lyle smiled and turned and walked to the door. What a fucking idiot!

* * *

"The chairman is a complete fucking moron," Lyle told Broots. "And I'll bet he thinks the Tower have our best interests at heart, really. I ask you, how more fucking delusional can you get? The Tower have and _always will_ only ever have their own best interests in mind! Why did they merge with the Centre in the first place? To further them_selves_! Why did they allow the Centre to take the credit for that? Because they didn't want their rivals to know who was really behind it!" Seeing the confusion on Broots's face, he shut up. Yeah, Broots probably had no idea. Undoubtedly, he'd bought this crap about Carthis, too, and assumed that the Tower had also come from such humble beginnings. Yeah, right!

"Do we have a lead on Jarod?" he asked, rubbing his face irritably.

"Nothing," Broots replied.

"Let's just hope it's not because he's run into some of our friends from T-Corp," Lyle commented.

"'Our friends'?" Broots asked.

Lyle rolled his eyes. "That was sarcasm," he told him. "Can't you tell?"

Broots said nothing. After a while, he said, "Are they really that bad?"

"Individually, sure, they can be great people, but when they're together, they're as fuckin' nuts as we are."

"Have you met them?"

"Yeah, I used to work with them... undercover. My... my partner was one of them. Not that I knew that at the time. She was... She wasn't a bad person, she was just mixed up in the wrong scene. Don't... don't ever allow yourself to make that mistake. This company has zero tolerance for that shit."

"What do you mean?"

"They asked me to take care of her."

Broots turned away from the computer screen to glance at Lyle more seriously. "So what did you do?"

"I took care of it... of her... What was I supposed to do?"

"Run away."

Lyle laughed. "Run away?" he repeated, amused.

"Yeah, run away."

"You don't run away from these people, Broots. I'm not talking about Blue Cove, I'm talking about an entirely different branch. Nobody gets away – nobody!"

Broots's frown deepened. "So how come you... how come you went to work for them? Did... Didn't you know?"

"I didn't know that that would happen, no. I'm not a... I'm not an Oracle."

"'Oracle'?"

"I don't see the future," Lyle rephrased.

"Neither do I."

"Exactly."

Miss Parker appeared suddenly beside them, glaring at her brother. He turned to look at the computer screen, as did Broots.

"You still don't have a lead?" she snapped.

Broots pulled a face, turning to her now, "No!"

She made a face right back. "Less chatter, more working!" She snapped her fingers, and strode off.

Broots glanced at Lyle, who sighed. "I'm not the only cheerful one today, it seems," he said. He shook his head. "What kind of an idiot was James? He should've left the child in Parker's custody, not the company's. It was never a sure thing that she'd take over from him!" He laughed again, "God, how people can allow themselves to get so fucked up!"

"Well, it happens more than we know," Broots said.

"You're not wrong," Lyle replied darkly.

Broots refrained from saying anything to that, like, 'Yeah, and the worst thing is that they don't even realise it.'

"You're not..."

"Not what?" Lyle asked.

"Involved with my daughter?" Broots finally finished.

Lyle tilted his head and smiled. "I don't think of Debbie in that way, Broots. I have a kid her age. She's... she's like my kid, too. That's all she is; she's a kid. Not that I... I don't mean that in a _Don't listen to her, she doesn't deserve an opinion_ sort of way. And, look, she's not even interested in me, either. You wouldn't... you wouldn't be interested in someone who wasn't interested in you, too, would you?"

Broots shrugged.

"Well, that's not how it is, I assure you."

"Parker thinks Silvie's your daughter," Broots said, before he could stop himself.

"Yeah, she would," Lyle intoned. "That girl's always been good with things like that."

"She is?" Broots said, half disbelieving.

"Yeah."

"I-"

"Forget it, Broots, you were expressing your honest opinion. I can't say that I share your opinion, but I appreciate your honesty, nonetheless."

"But... I think I've been a bit harsh on her... because I was upset. I thought... she was taking Debbie away from me. So... I was mean."

"And now that you've realised that, perhaps you can be a little nicer in future, hmm? People can be monsters, believe me, I should know, after all. Sometimes, we're not even human at all. But, you know what, we haven't changed, we're still what we were before, we're still people, it's just people's perceptions that are... confused. People are perfectly capable of monstrous acts, in a snap, trust me, the question is, Do we have an alternative? And, when we do, Do we take it? If you can, then you'll be a better person for it, but not everybody can. You know what, Broots? You're doing a good job. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise." He smiled. "You are."

"Sometimes," Broots replied quietly.

"On the whole," Lyle added. "We're all just human, and there are times when it's harder than at other times. It isn't easy, always. People have feelings, there's nothing wrong with that; that doesn't make you a bad person. What you do with those feelings, however, decides what sort of a person you are. If you see someone else who's not being treated fairly and think it's not fair but think there's nothing you can do about it, well, maybe there isn't, or maybe there is. There's a lot that goes into it, a lot to consider. After all, if you don't look out for yourself, when the time comes that you might be able to help, when you're in a position to do something, you might well not be around to do anything, might you. So it's not as black and white as it seems."

"I didn't have to hurt Silvie by saying the things that I did," Broots said.

"It's the past, Broots. If you apologise, honestly, I'm sure she'll let it go. She doesn't want to be angry at people, it's as hurtful for her as it is for you. She doesn't like that. Give her the chance to decide for herself, to move on; tell her you're apologetic, and see what comes of it. What else can you do, really?"

"What if I buy her something to say sorry?" Broots asked.

"I don't know. You know how women can get about gifts."

"Is Silvie like that?"

"Probably not, unless she thinks someone expects her to be."

"What... what if I tell her I don't... I don't expect her to be like that?"

"Yeah, that might seem... odd."

"I don't care."

"Well, perhaps if you apologise first and then see what happens. We shouldn't... presume to know how someone who'd been hurt might react, because, then, when they don't react the way we had anticipated, we could be putting not only ourselves, but also them, in a lot of unwanted danger. Do you understand that?"

"Yeah, my ex could be... unpredictable. I loved her, but, I'm not sure that she understood that or... or how it really worked, when a person loved another person. I know how that sounds, but we didn't talk about things like that. We... we should have, but sometimes... well, when things are good, you just don't think about it that way. It's not that I doubt that she loved me or... or our daughter, but she had this... blockage, or... or this... this thing that sometimes could come up and suddenly everything else would cease to exist or to be important, just this thing! It hurts you, when things like that go wrong, you get... scared, in a way."

"You shouldn't be. I've known you for a few years now, quite a few years, and you've no reason to be afraid of interaction with other people. You... you needn't hesitate that you're going to hurt someone else, or yourself in hurting them; we always get hurt, whether by means that are intentional or not, but we can work through things so that we're not so hurt anymore and, afterwards, you know what, afterwards, a lot of the time we've gotten to know each other better than we did before and we've grown closer. It's not always a bad thing."

"It doesn't seem that way with Miss P," Broots said. "I mean, she's laid into me a few times for various things, and we're no closer for it, I can tell you."

"It just seems that way," Lyle told him, with a smile. "Parker does like to keep things at bay a lot of the time, it's how she is. If she is going to get hurt by something, she'd rather die than have someone else see that she was hurt. I guess she doesn't trust that anyone would want to offer her comfort merely out of care for her; she thinks it's just a ploy, if they do, for them to get something they want, whatever that might be. Unfortunately, it's a consequence of growing up in the environment that she did. I can't say that I've done any better myself, I'm just more able to play the game that I have, if you know what I mean; to act normal, if you will. More normal, anyway; and you know that what is defined as normalcy is just what is most common, or what is seen as most common. People can be very good at putting up a false front if they think it's what is expected of them, or if it'll get people off their case."

He sighed. "She's a good kid. I don't expect that she'll give you all that much trouble, just give it a shot." He nodded to the computer screen where it said he had an email waiting to be read.

"Fingers crossed it's not just some junky piece of spam," Broots remarked.


End file.
